Preparing Fish
by Walk As Lions
Summary: Reepicheep's brother has doubts on Aslan's existence, until he begins to fish. Inspired by Matthew 4. [Author's Note: Set in King Reepicheep's universe with author's permission]


_And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men._

 **Matthew 4:19, KJV**

 _Hazel the English Rabbit_

 **Author's Note:** _This takes place in King Reepicheep's universe [with author permission]_

 **PREPARING FISH**

Much of what we know in life is miniscule in comparison to what awaits us when we come up and go further in. Much of what we do in life though, is dependent on where we come up and go further into. The two seem to contradict each other don't they? It seems apparent then, that we should forego the whole business of believing and honouring some sort of ancient, backwards, non-progressive system of Commandments given to us by some mythical creature of the dark and of the light. It seems to be beyond human comparison. Yet, many still cling because of two fundamental logical reasons: First, it must either be true. Second, it must be insanity. One such person who had this logical phenomena occur to himself, was Simon-Siphon, Reepicheep's brother.

One afternoon, after taking a swim and a good session of fishing, Simon believed himself to be content with his life as he returned home with a halibut and trout on his spear. Not everyone in the Daren family was a swordsman, some were fisherman, others were spearman, like Simon himself, and some resorted to more scholarly work- such as historians, bookkeepers, or perhaps the occasional scribe or two. Nevertheless, the cherry door to his ancestral home was ajar, allowing the smell of cinnamon pie and cider to greet his nose and rumble his stomach.

"That wonderful smell, that wonderful, wonderful smell!" Reepicheep called as he scurried his way into the kitchen.

"Now Reep," the cook glanced back, giving him a look of wanting patience.

"Oh come now, Pawcheek, it is simply free to smell a thing, is it not?"

Pawcheek, Reepicheep's uncle, was a stern and meticulous fellow that made Reepicheep's father, Chevrep, a complete saint in the eyes of Great Divinity. There was a certain colour to the mixture that was Pawcheek and Chevrep, for they did not behave like brothers. It was more so on line with friends who were forced to live with each other but did not necessarily enjoy one's permanent company.

"Not always." Simon chimed in, walking into the kitchen to prepare the actual meal. As he possessed a knife to remove the scales, Pawcheek placed the pies on a small fire.

Reepicheep beamed over to his brother, whom he loved unconditionally to a dangerous degree, laughed but remained silent in his speech, but active in his thoughts. _Halibut and trout for supper, how wonderful. I do hope he enjoyed himself fishing today. He seemed to have needed it, these past few weeks have been troublesome…_

"So, Reepicheep," Simon said. "How goes the war effort?"

"We are not losing and we are not dying." Reepicheep answered, overconfident as ever.

Simon nodded, moving to flaying the fish further by liberating the meat from the thin carcass. "This horn of yours that you keep on babbling about- has it been found?"

Reepicheep sighed and shook his head. "Nay, haven't seen hide nor head of it. Still, I do believe it exists. After all, such a mind as Qu-"

"They're dead Reepicheep."

"They are not dead, Simon, they are simply gone from here."

Simon laughed. Ludicrous, he thought, to have someone be hundreds of years old and not show a face or current evidence of existence. It is almost laughable as the Great Lion. It was as laughable as The Great Lion. He has not been here since the time of Gold and such time has long passed. We are now in darkness, the world which he so supposedly dreamed up one night. I shan't be a member of a war trying to save it. I shan't even try. I would wish to go knowing that I was simply a part of it for a brief period, have a good last meal, and pass on to be a part of the numerous sols that populate the ink that is the night.

"Do you believe in Aslan, Simon?" Reepicheep asked, moving to his brother's side as he prepared the fish further, setting the meat aside next to a loaf of bread.

Simon was silent, focused on the task at hand. When the fish was gutted and the organs cleaned and placed among the meat, for he would consume these himself, he answered: "I believe in what can be seen and proven and what can be seen and proven has nothing to do with that Lion."

Reepicheep quirked his brow, grabbing a large tray and placing the meat on this. "Yet you acknowledge his existence?"

Pawcheek rolled his eyes, removing the pies and placing them high and out of reach, for there were mouselings in the house. "Reepicheep, do not force it down his throat. He will believe in time or he simply will not."

"Very well Uncle." Reepicheep bowed his head towards his elder and took the meat tray to the large table that sat seventeen.

When all was had and the pies were consumed, fully bellies and warm spirits sounded throughout the hall. Bread was broken, wine was had, and despite the mood, Simon was sitting at the end of the table silent. He was thinking logically about why he denied fully the existence of something he could not see, but others seemed to believe without any effort whatsoever. Without the utterance of words, Simon stood from the table and made his way out the front door. The room turned its attention to him; Reepicheep in particular stood from his spot and followed him at least to the door which Simon kept open.

Outside, the night possessed a wind- the trees showed off their amber colours, weaving through the air, dancing a beautiful ballet of grace and knowledge. For they saw Simon and despite their sleepiness and exhaustion from a long, bloody summer, they were smiling down at him and applauded success.

Simon walked down towards the river, intending to do some night fishing to have some food for the morrow. Standing at the bank, he looked down at the water, his reflection of melancholy damning him in this moonlight sonata. Reepicheep followed with absolute secrecy, sticking to shadows and scurrying along the lower boughs of trees, jumping across as he reached the ends. Watching from overhead, the Valiant Mouse was hoping that Aslan would show himself, give a sign- do something to lead to unwavering conviction.

 _If he does not believe Reepicheep,_ Aslan's conscious wagered, for he was in fact close, but was not showing himself yet. _Then perhaps he was not meant to._

 _All Creatures,_ Reepicheep responded in his head, _deserve a chance to prove themselves. I do believe my brother wants to accept you, I am just not sure as to how I can help…_

The wind carried Aslan's voice next. "Move to the other side and you shall have an abundance of fish!"

Simon heard this and perking his ears up, he turned and looked around, seeing no one. "Who calls?"

Aslan repeated himself again, this time with a laugh. "The River! Move to the other side!"

"Why on earth should I do that?" Simon questioned.

"Because, if you do," The Lion replied with a rather sweet voice. "It shall make you feed your family for years. Now go!"

Simon was hesitant, but the prospect of feeding his family for a long time was too tempting to ignore. So he backed himself up and jumped the river. Positioning himself to fish again, he did so for three hours and came up with nothing- he was about to retire to achieve some sleep, and Reepicheep was already doing such a thing in the tree, when Simon heard the sound of failing about. Curious, The Mouse looked up and down for a source and noticed that down the way, a fish had come up onto shore. Then another and another and another and another. Soon the entire bank was full of fish and Simon was laughing. This laughter awoke Reepicheep, who looked down and sighed out of relief.

"Thank you Aslan, you have saved his life."

 _On the contrary, I have merely just begun it._


End file.
